I'd Rather Be Drizzt's Shrink
by The Invisible Fan
Summary: When the universe seems to hate you, there is no such thing as an easy task. An unlucky group attempts to make a journey, but the most unexpected things go wrong, things that aren't normally thought of as dangerous. Rewritten!


Title: I'd Rather Be Drizzt's Shrink

Rating: PG

A/N: This is a rewriting of this story because looking back on the original it was in dire need of it. My writing skills have improved greatly since then and hopefully for those of you who read the original, it shows. I've also expanded the story to being more than just a drabble. I hope you all enjoy it!

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I'd Rather Be Drizzt's Shrink

Part 1:

Why Making Camp Can Be More Dangerous Than Battle

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"All right everyone let's stop here for the night."

The ranger looked over the area approvingly. The ground was mostly level so they'd be able to pitch tents fairly easily and there were some oaks and evergreens that would provide some cover. Once they cleared away most of the leaves there hopefully wouldn't be too many rocks to jab them in the back while they were sleeping. Selecting a location that wasn't directly under any of the trees the ranger began to clear a spot for a fire.

The rest of the party began to set up camp as well and soon they had both camp and a fire crackling merrily away as the sun was just sinking over the horizon. The rogue pulled out some cookware and picked up a bag of herbs and some vegetables and prepared to cook the evening meal. The rouge was just about to add some of the herbs into the stew when the druid looked up in alarm.

"My spell components!" The druid hastily snatched the herbs away and shot the rogue a glare.

"What?! They just looked like dried up plants to me. How was I supposed to know?"

"Stay away from my things," the druid growled. The rogue grumbled as the ranger helpfully offered to take over cooking.

The paladin opened one eye from where he was relaxing next to the fire and made a mental note that his suspicions as to why the entire party came down with dysentery last time were probably accurate.

"You can help us pitch the tent if you'd like," the young wizard offered from where he and the barbarian were working. The rogue shook his head. The wizard shrugged and held the stake while the barbarian went to pound it into the ground. Unfortunately the stake went only an few inches into the ground before it hit something hard.

"Musta found a rock."

The wizard moved the stake over a bit and the barbarian went to pound the stake again. And missed. The wizard swore and cradled his thumb. The rogue looked impressed at the range and variety of vocabulary. All efforts to get the stakes any further than a few inches into the ground proved futile. The ground was as hard as rock. The wizard and the barbarian were debating whether or not to give up on the tent when the paladin suddenly leapt up from where he was sitting with a yelp.

"Ants!" he hastily tried to brush them off. "Ow! Ow! Fire ants!"

The rogue tried to suppress a snigger. The paladin finished brushing off the last of the ants and moved to the other side of the fire, checking for ants before sitting back down.

"We'll have to be careful that the ants don't get into our supplies." The ranger looked over at their packs thoughtfully.

"We could move camp." The barbarian glared at the still un-pitched tent.

"We didn't see any better areas though. Besides we're only going to be here one night."

"I hate logic."

"Regardless, we need to get out of this area soon. The compass has been spinning ever since we we entered this valley. And the weather being overcast hasn't been helping either." The rogue looked over the compass once again, trying to figure out what sort of defect could have caused such a thing to occur.

"Aha! I got it!"

"What? Did you figure out what's been making the compass spin?"

"No, I figured out how to get the tent up." The wizard pulled a rope out of one of the packs. "We can use rope to hold up the top of the tent. Unless of course you would rather sleep out in the open. You never know when it's going to rain with those clouds."

"Well... this looks like more of your department than mine," the barbarian clapped the rogue on the shoulder then started to leave camp.

"Hey where are you going?" The wizard asked from where he was stringing the rope through the tent.

"Nature calls."

"Don't go playing with the porcupines. I'm not helping you pull needles out of your shins if it happens again."

The barbarian snorted. "I told you that wasn't my fault."

"Sure it wasn't."

The barbarian tromped off into the bushes.

A few pine cones in the face and nut attacks from squirrels later, the tent was securely up. No sooner than it was up then thunder could be heard in the distance. The rouge scowled at the sky then slunk into the tent. The barbarian reentered the camp, looking decidedly uncomfortable. The wizard looked up when the barbarian came over.

"Hey... do you think I could get a healing spell?" The barbarian kept his voice low, as if he didn't want anyone else to overhear.

"Why? You weren't the one that got hit by a hammer, and I hardly think your boots gave you blisters."

"Erm well... you see..." the barbarian was beginning to look pitiful in his discomfort. "I er... used the wrong kind of leaf."

"You used the wrong leaf?"

"Shh! Not so loud!"

"Wrong leaf?" It was too late. The druid had overheard and looked over at them curiously.

"It's nothing!" The barbarian answered far too quickly. The druid snickered and nudged the ranger immediately sharing the joke. The two did little to stifle their laughter. The barbarian groaned in both embarrassment and discomfort.

"You owe me." The wizard handed the barbarian a small pot of ointment. "And no, I won't apply it for you."

The sky rumbled once more. Moments later hailstones of increasing size began to fall. Everyone piled into the tent. The storm grew in ferocity and the wind and hailstones threatened to topple their flimsy canvas tent. Later, underneath the noises of the storm, animal like snorts and slobbering could be heard.

"I think something's out there..." The ranger whispered.

The rogue swore. "I think I left the weapons out there!"

"Then go get them!" The ranger gave the rogue a shove towards the tent flap.

"Why me? Aren't you the one who's friendly with nature?"

"One: You left them out there. Two: you're the one who's always boasting about being agile. Three: I'll kill you with my bare hands if you don't." He gave the rogue another shove this time out of the tent.

From outside the tent they could hear a loud exclamation and what sounded like a a bit of a scuffle. There was a loud clambering and then everything was quiet once again except for the sounds of the storm.

"Either the rogue got our weapons and chased whatever it was off, or the rouge is dead," the wizard stared at the tent flap.

"I don't see any bad options there." The druid commented.

To everyone's relief (except possibly the druid's) the rogue reentered the tent looking rather muddy and forlorn. "A rust monster ate half our weapons..."

"That's it. I'm going to kill you." The ranger had half gotten to his feet when the tent collapsed leaving them all fumbling underneath the canvas as it was pelted with golf ball sized hailstones.

"Either we're having extraordinarily bad luck, or someone out there really hates us," the paladin commented. In the darkness, he couldn't tell who it was that punched him.

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-End Part One-

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Up next:

Part Two- For the Want of a Mirror

The unfortunate party finally makes it into town where more unexpected troubles await.

Please remember to review!


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